


Let's Just Call It Even

by kilojulietsierra



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-07 06:05:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14664852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kilojulietsierra/pseuds/kilojulietsierra
Summary: Jamie and Bronn have an interesting encounter with a young woman that soon makes Bronns life more difficult than it already is. But, when it’s all said and done Ser Jaime Lannister “The Kingslayer” does indeed pay his debt to Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. Just in a roundabout sort of way. "A Lannister always pays..." "Don't say it. Don't fuckin' say it."





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Remind me why we aren’t campin’ in Darry with the rest of ‘em.  
Bronn shifted his seat int the saddle trying to ignore the pains and aches developing.

“Because we are scouting ahead. Surely you’re familiar with the pracitce.”

Bronn threw a look over his shoulder, “I think with eight thousand men we’d be fine wherever we wanted to go. Don’ya think?”

Ser Jaime simply ignored the sellsword riding next to him, urging his own horse down the road quicker. After a brief pause Bronn followed his lead as did the two Lannister men riding behind them. It wasn’t long before they came to a small inn at the bottom of a hill, it looked to be operated by a farmer and his family. THe small group came to a stop by the inns doorway. Ser Jaime dismounted his horse, still unsteady with only one good hand, “Stay here, I shouldn’t be long.” Without another word he stepped through the door.

Sitting for a moment Bronn twisted his face up before nodding. “Well alright then. You lads, one of you upt the road a bit the other down there, keep a watch.” He swung down from his horse stretching once his feet hit the ground he began looking about, eyes settling at last on an old wooden chair against the wall.

There he sat, chair rocked back on two legs, booted feet resting, crossed on top of the rail where his horse stood tied. He worked at the dirt under his nails with the tip of his knife, humming a tune that had been occupying his mind. Midway through the tune his singing came to a stop, something was off. Back down the road the way they had just travelled, came a single rider over the hill. A rider on a solid black horse, wearing a black cloak and a mask over the lower half of their face. Bronn’s eyes never left the rider as he whistled and waved the Lannister man to his right to join the other further down the road.

The hooded rider stopped part way down the hill, steam puffing from the steeds nostrils as they sat watching. Bronn let his chair drop to the ground and lay one hand on the grip of his sword, walking to the edge of the road. Behind the mysterious rider, a solider in Lannister red came over the hill, his own horse at a run. “Stop them! Thief!”

Everything stood still for a second, only a second, before all seven Hells broke loose. THe rider in black threw his heavy cloak from his shoulders and seemed to produce a bow from nowhere. His horse sat deep on his haunches then launched forward, taking off at a dead run as the rider nocked an arrow, letting the reins swing freely about the horses neck. Twisting so that he faced the Lannester man behind him the lthief loosed an arrow, sinking it deep into the pursuing soliders neck. Now he faced forward nocking another arrow even as he bumped his heels against the horses sides, urging him faster. The second arrow caught one of the soldiers right in the armors weak spot at the shoulder causing him to jerk his own horses mouth violently. Tipping the pair over colliding in his companion, all landing on the ground in a tangled mess.

Bronn stood flat footed, sword drawn, watching the rider draw closer. The last remaining Lannister man was scrambling to his feet, grasping wildly for the sword he had dropped when his horse had been knocked. All the while the thief was drawing closer. The bow disappearing as the rider was nearly on top of the solider and just when Bronn was sure the poor boy would be flattened by the horse the thief swung on leg over the saddle, and with both hands grasping the pommel swung both feet down and forward, landing flat footed and hard against the soliders chest, smashing him to the ground. The poor mans head hit the ground so hard his helm came off and bounced in the ditch.

It was impossible not to be impressed, even for Bronn, as he watched the mysterious thief use the horses momentum to vault back up into the saddle. They were closer now and he could see the horses ears laid back against its skull, muscles rippling as the beast ran. Just as he was preparing to take a great swing at the horses legs the rider impressed him yet again by drawing their sword and nonchalantly stepping down from the saddle while the horse was mid-stride. The horse continued running straight for him while the riders right foot reached for the ground, hanging from the saddle. They were only a few strides apart when the riders boots hit the ground lightly, first the right then the left. Once again the rider was using the horses momentum, before Bronn could adjust his stance the rider, who had literally hit the ground running, was crashing into his broadly exposed chest, shoulder first sending them both tumbling into the dirt.

The wind knocked out of him Bronn found himself struggling to even make it to his hands and knees, without warning a boot connected with his stomach both sending him onto his back and emptying his lungs yet again. Once his vision was clear enough he saw the rider come to stand over him. His face was masked and wore an archers hood so that when the rider looked down at him all Bronn could see was dark eyes glaring. The thief dropped a knee into Bronn’s chest and crossed both their swords over his neck. WIth one motion he could use the blades to remove his head like a pair of shears trimming a rose bush.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another man and another sword appeared over the thiefs’s shoulder. “If you value your life I would consider putting aside those blades.”

Bronn had never been happier to see the Kingslayer than he was in that instant. The rider did not move right away, instead seemed to be weighing options and outcomes. At last the swords were dropped to the ground and Bronn felt safe to breathe again.

Ser Jaime sheathed his blade and grabbed Bronns attacker roughtly by the hood, hauling him to his feet. In doing so the hood fell back, revealing a long, dark braid knotted high on the the thief’s head. With eyes narrowed Bronn got to his feet, reclaiming his sword. He took a step, exchanging glances with Jaime as he reached to pull the silk scarf down to reveal the riders face. His own face dropped, eyes going wide belaying his shock, “Your’re a fuckin’ woman!?”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Her eyes flashed darker as she wrenched herself out of the knights grasp and threw an elbow back, connecting with Ser Jaimes nose before lunging at Bronn again, knocking him across the jaw with her fist. She took off at a run, trying to make it to her horse that grazed a short way down the road but Bronn was too quick. He grabbed a hold of her sleeve as she ran by and drug her back. She lashed out again with her free arm but Bronn caught her by the wrist, “You hit me again, I’m gonna hit you back.”

They stared each other down for a beat or two before she blew out a sharp breath and jerked her left hand free. This time, however, she did not move to strike him, simply struggled against his grasp as he marched her back up the road. Jaime stood with his good hand pinching off the blood still dripping from his nose. “Care to explain yourself?”

The girl did not fight, or spit, or speak, simply stared back at him.

“You just killed three Lannister soldiers in cold blood, one of whom claimed you had stolen something. So, I’ll ask again, care to explain?”

She continued to stare. “Two.”

Jaime and Bronn shared another look. “Two what?”

The corner of her lip turned up ever so slightly, “I only killed two of your men.” She nodded up the road, “That one there’s just gonna be sore for a day or two.”

Behind her Bronn fought back a smile. Jaime was not so amused. “Murder is murder. And what of the other accusation?”

The muscles in her jaw tensed and she straightened her back, “Ain’t thievin’ if you’re taken back what someone else took from you first.”

Jaime wiped at his nose with a rag he pulled from his pocket, pleased to see it had quit bleeding. “What was it that was taken from you exactly?”

This time her jaw seemed to lock shut completely so Bronn have her arm a sharp twist. “If you convince us you’re in the right we might let y’go. If y’don’t say anything at all he’ll cut your head off just to save us the time.”

She looked at Bronn out the corner of her eye before settling her gaze on the infamous Kingslayer, “A dozen good horses.”

“Horses?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t suppose you have any proof?”

Before she gave her answer she let out two long whistles of different pitches, both Jaime and Bronn were somewhat surprised to see the black horse she had charged in with pick his head up and come trotting towards her. “There’s a dozen solid black horses in your camp back there all with a notch in their left ear and a half circle with three lines burned into the hide of their right hip.” She drew the marking in the dirt, a rising sun of sorts, with the toe of her boot. As the horse came up to her Jaime saw the markings for himself.

“I’m just supposed to take your word then, that you aren’t say; trying to steal them back after they were bought and paid for?” How do I know my men didn’t purchase these horses legally?”

“Because we don’t sell our horses to Lannisters.”

This time Bronn had to cover an honest chuckle with a clearing of his throat while Jaime considered the young woman in front of them.

Still unamused Jaime continued to size up the woman before him. Whether or not her story was true and the horses had in fact been stolen, if they were hers to begin with, or even if they existed at all, she proved a skilled warrior. The Gods know he could always use more of those. He took his time coming to a decision, “Bind her hands and get her on her horse, we will take her with us back to the main encampment, see if what she says is true.”

“Do you really think lettin’ her get back on her horse is the best idea?” Bronn jerked his head in the direction of the Lannister men still strewn about the road.

The Kingslayer rolled his eyes, “Tie her feet to her stirrups if you’re so worried. Tie her across the saddle for all I care.” With nothing more to say on the matter he strode up the road to try and rouse the unconscious soldier.

The woman looked at Bronn, one eyebrow arched, seemingly enjoying his mistrust of her.

“Fucks sake.” He drug her over to the fence, pulling out the dagger he kept at his back to cut a piece off an old lead rope hanging there. After tying her hands behind her he grabbed another rope that hung there and shoved her back towards her black horse, still standing obediently where she had called him to. Bronn snatched the reins from the horses neck. “Go on, foot in the stirrup.” He worked the blade of his dagger through the rope he had brought, cutting it into two pieces. When she didn’t do as he said he looked up from his task and pointed the dagger at her, “Now.”

Bronn knew she would try him again, just not when. As she finally complied, kicking up her leg to place the toe of her boot through the stirrup iron, he trusted her even less. She seemed like one of the toys children play with, the ones with the handle you crank and crank until finally the top pops off. While she stood there, poorly balanced, with her weight rocked back, he tied the rope around her ankle and the stirrup leather. Securing the knot he nodded, “Alright, up ya go.”

A smile broke her face as she wiggled her hands behind her, “How am I supposed to get up there with no hands?”

“You’ll figure it out. Up!”

“Can you get on your horse with no hands?” She stood, still balancing on one leg eyeing him skeptically.

“Nope.” He took a step towards her, nearly face to face, “But, I’d bet a shiny coin tha’ you can.”

He saw the thought cross her face plain as day, she thought about knocking him in the head with her own. Maybe he had been baiting her but she didn’t take it. Instead she snarled slightly and bounced a few times on her right boot before hefting herself up. She leaned her top half further forward to compensate and eventually settled softly into the saddle.

Bronn nodded and walked around the front of her horse, reins still hooked over his elbow, and tied her right foot to the stirrup leathers as well. He paused for a moment, throwing a glance over his shoulder towards Jaime and the winded solider now trying to get back on his own horse. Slipping a hand under the horses neck he unbuckled one side of the saddles breast collar and re-buckled it to the binding on the nearside. Laughing a little to himself he crossed to the horse’s other side again, knowing full well his new prisoner was eyeing him the whole way. His hands worked the buckle of the girl loose and again he pulled out the dagger, this time working it through the leather of the girths billet until it was sliced nearly two thirds of the way through. Stowing the dagger he threw her a look as he did up the girth once more, the leather tearing slightly as he tightened it. “If I were you I wouldn’t move around too much.”

She remained silent and glowering as Bronn led them to his own horse and mounted up. Jaime had already mounted, sitting next to the one remaining solider who was slumping slightly in his own saddle.

This is how they made their way, Ser Jaime and the solider riding ahead of Bronn, who led the prisoner and her horse along behind him. He spared her a glance from time to time. She never spoke, simply stared ahead and went along for the ride. It made him uneasy.

~~~~~~~

When the small group rode back into the main camp many of the Lannister men stopped and stared. The woman Bronn towed along behind him did nothing but stare ahead. They came to a stop in front of the commanders tents in the middle of the encampment. Soldiers came up to help their wounded comrade and hold Ser Jaime and Ser Bronn’s horses. Jaime turned to Bronn, “Get her down, let’s see if we can make some sense of this.”

With a mocking, “Yes Sir!” Bronn pulled the dagger from his back and took the prisoners left boot in his hand, cutting the rope away. He saw it move but it was too late, the sole of her boot connected hard with his face sending him staggering back several steps. The soldiers standing about laughed while he wiped the blood from his lip with his leather sleeve.

The woman looked quite pleased with herself even as Bronn walked up and very gently rested the tip of his dagger against her thigh. They locked eyes, both smiling with an edge of darkness, Bronn wrapped his hand around the girth, where he had weakened it earlier and gave it a good jerk, splitting it in two. The motion caused the horse to skitter sideways just enough to shift the saddle from his withers. No matter how hard she tried she could not regain her balance, hands still bound behind her and one foot still tied to the stirrup. So, when the saddle slipped she went with it, landing with a thud and groan upon the muddy ground. The laughter doubled, Bronn joining in as he waved for the horses to be led away.

Taking his time he walked to where she laid in a heal and cut her other foot free.

She sat up wiping mud off her face with her shoulder, “Though you said you’d hit me back.”

Bronn reached down and grabbed her by the elbow, hoisting her to her feet. “Aye, well I try not to hit women.” Once she was standing steady on her own accord he brought his hand back and slapped her across the face, her head snapping to the side. “But, for you, I’ll make an exception.” With a nod he drug her into the nearest tent, shoving her towards an empty chair.

“So these stolen horses, where are they then? Hmm?”

“Don’t have ‘em on me sorry.”

“Love, I enjoyed the first one quite a lot,” Bronn worked his knuckles with his other hand as he threw a hip on the table across from her, “I will do it again.”

She looked around the tent finding no one else, “Still here in the camp. Never took ‘em.”

“Mhmm, you just got caught tryin’ then?”

All she offered as an answer was a shrug.

Bronn had just opened his mouth to ask more forcefully when Jaime ducked into the tent, “The animals in question never left the camp.”

“So, you could say I never stoled anything?”

“So it would seem.” Jaime ignored the look Bronn was giving him, “What’s your name?”

More silence. Just when they thought she was going to remain silent forever she spoke, “Lea.”

“Alright, Lea, where are you from?”

Another pause, shorter this time, “The North.”

Bronn had to admit he found her obstinate nature much more enjoyable when it was Jaime suffering it rather than himself.

“Well, Lea from the North, I have a proposition for you.”

“I don’t want any propositions. I want my horses and to be let on my way.” Her jaw clenched and her eyes darkened again. “We don’t make deals with Lannisters. Especially Kingslayers.”

Jaime considered her words as he walked to a cupboard at the back of the tent, “How much would those horses bring you? The lot of them.”

Now both Bronn and Lea looked to him with confusion. “Six, seven silvers a piece to someone that knows a good horse.” Her eyes softened but still showed her skepticism.

“I’ll give you fifty for all of them and let you leave here with your life.” Bronn’s eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed and Lea shifted her head to size Jaime up. “Three days from now, when we reach Riverrun, after you’ve taught my twelve best cavalrymen how to do… whatever it is you do.”

“I don’t think that’s a…”

“I’ll go free and clear? No chasing? No backstabbing?”

“You have my word.”

The tent fell silent, bathed in red as the setting sun shone through the crimson tent panels. The lightning made Leas eyes appear nearly black as she stared down her captors, weighing Ser Jaime’s offer. “Done.”

Jaime nodded and called in a guard, “Take her and get her some food, then keep her secured. Don’t let her out of your sight. I want a guard with her at all times.” With that she was removed from the tent, leaving Bronn and Jaime alone.

“I don’t trust her.”

“You just don’t like her becuase she got the best of you.”

Bronn helped himself to some of Jaime’s wine, “She’s a woman, cunt of a woman too, and not the good kind.”

“You didn’t know that at the time.” Jaime stared at his friend, “You have to admit what she did took skill. We both know before this war is over we are going to need all the help we can get.” Jaime took a moment to pour his own glass of wine, “Where do you suppose she is from?”

Bronn shrugged, “North.” He finished his glass and set it on the table before leaving the tent. Bronn may not claim to be an educated man, or even a smart man, but he had been a lot of places and seen a lot of things. Now wasn’t the time to admit it, but he was fairly certain he knew exactly where this mysterious Lea called home.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“God’s sake, you’re flapping around like a chicken short of its head! Back straight, right leg straight, left knee bent, rock your weight back...There, now nice and easy...For fucks sake.”

Bronn laughed deeply as yet another Lannister soldier went rolling through the dirt.

“Three days! Three days and you’re still tripping over your own damn feet.” Lea turned her back on the boy still pulling himself up off the ground. “You there, the tall dumb one, let me see your vaulting position.” Grudgingly the man obeyed, swinging both legs onto one side of the saddle, attempting to stick them out in front of him while he hung by his grip on the pommel. His grip began to slip and his legs were shaking, he gave up within moments and Bronn chuckled again as he drank from the wine skin. “Pride of Westeros you are. Cut me loose, I’ll show you, again.” She held her still tied hands up to the soldier, who looked to Bronn where he sat on the tongue of a wagon off to the side.

Bronn smiled but shook his head.

Lea growled, “Fine.” She shoved past the soldier and stepped into the saddle of his horse. “There are Dothraki bloodriders that can shoot arrows,” She swung her right leg to the left side of the saddle, “standing up,” her hands locked into the pommel and her hip slid smoothly down the skirt of the saddle until her right forearm lay across the seat, helping to hold her weight, “In the saddle, on horses charging at a dead gallop.” She held herself there, body bent ninety degrees at the hip, legs extended out past the point of the horses shoulder, toes pointed. No muscle twitches, no part of her faltered. “But here you lot are, impressed by yourselves when you can draw your sword without cutting your own damn cock off.”

Bronn continued to watch her train and berate the cavalrymen and he had grown to quite enjoy it over the last few days. Partly because it was fun to watch the fancy, army lads struggle and fail, partly because she was fun to watch. Lea wsa strong, disciplined and quick witted.

“It doesn’t look like it’s going very well.” Jamie strode up to the wagon where Bronn sat.

“Well I think most of this stuff is a touch beyond these boys.” He laughed again as another man's arms gave out mid-vault sending him somersaulting under the horses legs.

“Where do you suppose she learned it?”

Bronn was certain he knew the answer, he simply chose not to share the truth, “I imagine she’s just some army wench that paid close attention to what was goin’ on around her.” Jamie hummed acknowledging the statement. “On the subject of wasting time, how goes the bargaining with the dead fish?”

“Blackfish, and not well.”

“Shocking. Oh well done!” Bronn clapped sarcastically as one of the men had just barely kept his feet in the running dismount. “You really goin’ t’let her ride out of here in the mornin’?”

“Yes I am.”

“Seems a waste. Besides sendin’ her out alone, who knows who she’ll run and tell what to.”

 

“I agree. Which is why she’s not going alone.”

Bronn nodded as he drank from the wineskin again, then stopped. “Oh no. I know exactly what you’re thinking, I ain’t a wet nurse, I ain’t takin’ her nowhere, not even if you…” A bag of coins dropped onto the ground between his boots.

“I’m less interested in her getting anywhere safely than I am in knowing where exactly she came from. She refuses to give her house name, wears black rather than colors, no sigil on any of her belongings.”

“Like I said, probably just an army whore trying to buy her way to a better place.” 

“I don’t believe so.” They both considered her a moment, “Are there woman sellswords?”

Bronn thought hard for a moment as he picked up the bag of coins and opened it. “None that I ever seen, pretty sure I’d remember.”

“Well you leave in the morning, after we take the castle. Don’t take too long. I’ll see you in Kings Landing.” Without another word Ser Jaime marched back down the hill.

“He’s a tad moody isn’t he?” Bronn looked up to see Lea standing a few steps away. He internally scolded himself for not hearing her approach.

“Aye, whole bloody family’s that way.” Simply on reflex he held the wineskin to her. In response she extended out her hands, still bound together, now chafed and raw. He thought on it for a moment, took a drink of wine and said, “Fuck it.” He pulled out his dagger and tossed it. Sticking in in the mud at her feet.

WIthout hesitation she plopped down and pulled up the large knife, clamping it between her boot heels so she could set to work cutting the ropes. It was awkward and tedious but she made due, “So, why don’t you wear the red?”

“Not a Lannister.” He watched as she worked her hands up and down, dragging the rope across the blades edge.

“So, you’re just here until someone offers to pay you more, is that it?”

“Aye.”

She smiled as the last strand snapped and she was finally able to shed the rotten rope from her sore wrists. Lea clenched and unclenched her fists a few times and then shook her hands out, enjoying the new freedom. Using the toe of her boot she kicked the dagger into the air and caught it by the handle, looking it over until she felt its owner’s eyes piercing through her.

It had been three days since she had put her boot to Bronn's face and he had been anxiously awaiting her next act of rebellion. He thought this may be it, she had his own knife and fee hands, even he would be slow to drop the wine and draw his sword from his current position. He waited. Lea surprised him yet again by flipping the blade across her fingers and extending it to him, handle first.

It was obvious she was happy to have surprised him, even just that small bit, as she accepted the wine and took a long drink. “So, you’ll all be enjoying a good siege tonight. What little shit spot will I be occupying?” She handed the wine back, savoring the warmth it had spread through her.

“In the same tent, with the same guard. You’re not a free woman ‘till tomorrow mornin’.”

As if to prove her point her faithful sheep dog of a guard appeared beside them, “Very well, I’ll behave then.” She moved to follow the soldier that had come to collect her, “Pity though, I could use a good go at someone after working with this piss lot for a few days.”

Bronn's face scrunched up in pure confusion when she winked at him before continuing on down the hill.

~~~~~~~

That night in Frays hall, Bronn was just on his way back in from relieving himself when he saw Lea sitting at one of the tables next to the soldier that had been guarding her. She still wore her breeches and tunic, her dark brown braid hanging over one shoulder and her face was only splashed clean, but she was smiling and laughing. The whole scene struck him as odd, when only that afternoon she had still been cuffed and imprisoned.

She must have felt him staring as he passed because her eyes looked over the rim of her wine glass and caught his. She didn’t say anything just smiled slightly and raised her glass to him before returning her attention to the old man finishing up his speech.

When sat back at the table next to Jaime he found himself annoyed, though he didn’t know why for certain. He held up his glass for more wine and as the girl poured her eyes hung on the man next to him. Now he was surely annoyed. “You don’t even have to do anythin’ do ya? Just sit there, a rich slab of beef and all the birds come peckin’.”

“You’re welcome to her.”

“She doesn’t want me, she wants your golden fingers up her twat.”

“Those two have their eyes on you.”

Bronn turned in his chair, “They have their eyes on you, cunt.”

Jaime grimaced, “Not my type.”

“Not blonde enough?”

Jamie faltered but ignored the remark, calling the ladies over, not so casually introducing his friend. “There you go.”

“Maybe I’m not in the mood.” He wasn’t, he didn’t know why, but he wasn’t. When he turned to look at the poor girls he decided they certainly couldn’t put him in a worse mood. “Oh, fuck it.” He set his glass down, got up and resigned to do his best to enjoy himself. The three of them were walking down the hall and he noticed even just the prospect of a bed in a real room lifted his spirits a little. Whether they noticed he couldn’t remember the way to his room or not he didn’t know, but they didn’t say anything.

Once he had found his way and opened the door the first thing he did was pour himself a glass of wine. Bronn turned to the ladies, forcing a smile and was struck dumb by the sight of Lea leaning in the open doorway. She smiled that evil smirk he recognized all too well by now and produced a small bag of coins from behind her back. As she she walked further into the room she tossed it to the young girl nearest her, “Thank you ladies.”

They both giggled and excused themselves from the room, closing the door behind them.

Bronn stood frozen, for longer than he cared to admit, “I’m either really goin’ to like how this ends up or really hate it.” He downed the glass he had just poured all at once and readied another. Lea laughed but didn’t respond, instead she leaned against a table in the center of the room. “Glass of wine before you slit my throat, or whatever it is you’ve come to do to me?” He had to admit there were some possibilities he wouldn’t be opposed to.

“Please.” But she made no move to stand up.

“Who’d you borrow the coin from?” He handed her the glass and retreated two steps, hooking one thumb in the front of his belt.

“You would've had to pay them anyway, I just saved them the trouble.”

He thought for a moment. “When the fuck did you take it?”

“Obviously when you weren’t paying attention.” She chuckled into her wine glass.

Try though he might he could not think of when she could possibly have take the coin purse from him, the last time he saw her was on the hill and they had been two paces away from each other the whole time. “You’re a sneaky woman.”

“Thank you.”

“Alright, on with it. Are you here to kill me or fuck me? Not entirely sure I have a preference at the moment.”

She laughed again, “Neither I’m afraid.”

“Well that’s disappointing. What then?”

For the first time that he had noticed, she miss-stepped. A quick glance at the floor, gathering something inside her. “Is he really going to let me ride out of here in the morning?”

Ser Bronn had not expected that at all. “Aye, so he says. Y’know what they say, ‘A Lannister always pays their debts’.”

A slight nod, “Seems hard to believe. Just letting me go, on my own. I could ride north, tell the starks you’re travelling and vulnerable.”

“No, he’s stupid but not that stupid.” He stopped to take a drink. What d’ya think that bag of silver you nicked off me was for?”

It was Lea’s turn to be baffled now, “Aren’t you the lucky one.” She finished her own wine glass this time.

“He just wants me to find out where you’re from, why he doesn’t know who you are, where you learned to fight. If your people are are a threat.”

She nodded some more, her brown eyes locking with his blue, “You already know. Don’t you?”

~~~~~~~

Grabbing the wine jug off the table he walked back to her, “Had my suspicions. Pretty certain of it now though. Not many folks fight like that, and those horses you had, I’ve seen a few in my time. Both are things you recognize.” He topped off his own glass, this time he sat it on the table behind her and sat himself in one of the chairs close by. “Never met one of their women though. Do they all fight like you?”

“No. They teach us to defend ourselves of course, but the real training is reserved for the men.”

“Well you must be someone important, or know the right people.”

She sipped some more, “That’s what it all comes down to isn’t it? Who you know.”

Kicking his feet up on the table he set his glass down and nodded. “What brings you all the way down here then? The way I understand it you lot like to keep to yourselves.”

“Even isolated as we are, we hear things. We do not receive word by reaven very often, nor do we send ravens asking for information. It’s easier for us to come see what we can see, hear what we can hear.”

Her demeanor had changed, the way she spoke was smoother, Bronn could see he had chipped away a piece of a mask. “If yer such a talented sneak, what’s with this business of getting captured?” You knew you’d be in danger, knew who you were dealing with. Hell you sat on the hill starin’ right at us and had every chance to disappear into the trees. Why’d you charge us?”

She looked him in the eye again. They told her he was merely being inquisitive, not mining for information. Unlike herself. “What better place to learn the enemies plans than being among them?”

Bronn frowned deeply and nodded his head before echoing his words from before, “You’re a sneaky woman.”

Lea smiled, “Will you go to the Kingslayer?” Holding the glass to her lips one last time she waited for his answer before she drank.

The room was quiet, neither of them moving. “Nope.” He finished his wine and dropped his feet to the floor. Hefting himself from the chair with his hands braced on his knees. “I’m going to bed.” As he came to stand by the side of the bed he worked the buckles of his belts, pulling them off to hang on the post of the bed, both blades within reach. “You’re of course, welcome to join.” Ser Bronn eyed her suggestively as he undid the clasps of his leather coat.

Her smile was slight, but still turned up in the corner, “Not tonight. I plan on leaving quite early tomorrow, you best get a good night's sleep.”

“Too bad.” He turned to toss the coat across a bench at the foot of the bed, “Nothing like a good woman after a…” When his eyes landed on the table Lea was no longer leaning against it. The room was empty and the door was open.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“You look right cheery this morning.”

Bronn didn’t have to turn around to see who was speaking to him, “Didn’t sleep well last night.” After securing his bedroll he did turn. Lea sat atop the tall, black horse she had been riding when she first came upon them, wearing the dark archers hood and same heavy, black cloak.

“And why’s that?” Her horse shifted his weight but she sat relaxed in the saddle.

Ser Bronn looked at her but did not answer, instead he swung himself into his own saddle, waving his hand in a wide, sweeping gesture. Indicating for her to lead the way. She nodded, pulling the silk mask up over the bridge of her nose. THey rode in silence through the quiet camp, the soldiers still sleeping off the celebration of the night before as the sun crept up over the hills. “What’s the idea behind that anyway?” Bronn broke the silence. When she looked at him, unsure of what he meant, he pointed at his own face.

She pulled the mask down, letting it bunch loosely around her neck. “A woman riding on her own draws attention, a man riding in heavy clothes is simply unaccustomed to the cold.”

“Well you’re not alone now.”

Yet again they found themselves staring each other down until, again, lea softened. “You’re right.” She left the scarf wrapped loosely about her neck and threw her hood back, letting the early morning air bite at her pale skin. It energized her and she found herself kicking her horse up into a lope, wanting to feel more of winter's promise. She didn’t bother to look for Bronn behind her, she could hear his horses hooves pounding after them. All she wanted in that moment was to enjoy her freedom again, no ropes to bind her wrists, no spear constantly pointed her way. The only remnant of her capture was the sores on her wrists and Bronn, and for now his presence didn’t make her feel as claustrophobic as the terrible crimson tents had.

~~~~~~~

They traveled well together it turns out. Neither of them requiring much food or rest, both sufficient enough riders to make good time. Their conversations were spaced out over the miles, neither overly interested in talking. On the last night they would make camp, according to Lea, they set about unsaddling the horses in mostly companionable silence. Lea struck out to find a couple rabbits for dinner while Bronn used what dry kindling he could find to start a fire.

In the thick woods Leas boots crunched through the light snow, making it difficult to be silent even for her. She had one rabbit already tied to her belt as she walked a large loop back to camp hoping for another. Ahead of her she saw one digging through the snow to find something to eat. Too far away to throw a knife so she pulled the bow from her back. For a moment she entertained the thought of how long ago it seemed since she last fired an arrow, back at the inn at the bottom of the hill, as she nocked an arrow and drew back. The poor rabbit squealed once but then had nothing much else to say on the matter. Plucking the arrow from the creatures limp body she froze, her head still bowed low she swept the trees around her with her narrow, well trained eyes.

To the east she could see movement, what it was for certain she could not tell through the trees but it sat there, watching. Inhaling deeply she grabbed a handful of snow to wash the blood from the arrow before drying it on her cloak and sliding it back into the quiver that hung at her hip. With the two rabbits swinging against her legs as she walked she moved as quietly as she could, listening to the something or someone following not far behind her.

Back in the small clearing she found Bronn with a small fire going. Lea walked by him, “Someone’s followed me.” As she walked past she jerked the belt from her waist dropping the rabbits and quiver close to the fire. Her eyes landed on her sword still buckled to her saddle but Bronn grabbed her elbow warning her off. Good he did as three riders appeared through the trees.

“Evening folks.”

Bronn stepped forward, positioning himself somewhat between Lea and their visitors, “Evening.” He hooked his thumbs in the front of his belt, causing the small cloak he wore over one shoulder to slip aside and reveal the handle of the sword at his hip.

“What brings you out in this weather?”

Lea took a step forward, “We’ve been to the crossroads trading goods.”

The rider in the middle, the one doing all the talking, surveyed their camp. “Fire looks nice, those rabbits there don’t look so bad either.” He looked to his companions who sneered, “We’ve had a long day, gonna be a long night too. Maybe that pretty, young wife of yours could make us all some supper.” The sneering turned into chuckles.

“Oh I’d gladly offer ya to stay but, though she is young and pretty, she’s not a very good cook.” Bronn chuckled dryly. He felt Lea step closer and nearly flinched when she lay her hand between his shoulder blades.

“Don’t listen to him, you are all welcome.”

Bronn had to ignore the shiver that followed her hand as it slid lower down his spine. His eyes were locked on the visitor stepping down from his horse but his mind was struggling to focus while Lea was reaching under his cloak. His thoughts cleared though when he felt her gently pull the dagger he wore at his back from its sheath.

“Right, more than welcome.” Bronn shifted his right hand to his sword, ready to draw.

“Glad to hear it.”

“So if she’s no good at cooking, what exactly is she good at?” The rider on the right’s laughter was cut short by the dagger piercing his throat, blood gurgling out from his mouth and around the hilt of the blade.

The other two were stunned but the leader scrambled for his sword, though he was no match for Bronn. Lea watched as the remaining bandit turned to flee. Her eyes darted as she ran, slipping free an arrow she had held concealed under her cloak. She ran to a large stone as the horse and rider turned about it, launching herself off of it she was able to land, her knees balanced precariously on the horses rump. With one hand held the highwayman’s face to the side and with the other drove the arrow deep into his chest through a space in his ribs. Calmly she grabbed the reins and slowed the horse, turning it around and taking it back towards the fire.

Half kneeling on the horses rump, the bleeding attacker still slumped in the saddle gasping for air and coughing up blood, Lea reined the horse to a stop and slid down to land softly in the mud. The mans body followed suit, landing with a great thud.

“Not that I mind but was that necessary?” Bronn knelt by the one man he had been fighting, wiping the blood from his sword with the mans trousers.

Lea stood stroking the horses face while his rider lay on the ground, still gurgling his last breath. “Better safe than sorry.”

‘True enough.” Bronn stood, stowing his sword. “But now we have to do something with these bodies.” He cast his eyes to the ground and then around to the woods surrounding them. “Ground’ll be too hard for diggin’ graves.”

Lea walked by leading the young mans horse, “Wasn’t planning on it.” As she continued past him Bronn watched the boys body slide through the mud, tied behind his own horse. “Plenty of critters out there looking for a free meal.”

~~~~~~~

After dark they sat by the fire chewing pieces of charred rabbit meat, both leaning back against a log they had drug from the trees. Bronn stopped and wiped his face on his sleeve before adjusting his new cloak, borrowed from their visitors earlier. “So when we get you home, there goin’ t’be an angry husband waiting to run me through?”

“Had your fair share of experience with angry husbands have you?” She laughs under his unappreciative glare. “No, no angry husband.”

He took another bite of his rabbit, “Lil old to be unwed don’t ya think?”

Lea looked at him more amused than offended, “I was married, thank you. It’s a real mystery why you’re still unwed.”

Bronn mumbled around of mouthful of food, “For yer information, I had me a woman, was sposed to be married by now, livin’ in a castle countin’ gold coins to pass the time.”

“Oh, what happened?” She pulled a particularly tough piece of meat from the bone.

Picking up the waterskin that lay on the ground between them Bronn scoffed, “Jaime fuckin’ Lannister, that’s what happened.” Lea nodded but didn’t respond, so they sat in silence for a bit. The fire crackling and horses moving about the only noise to cover up the eerie sounds of the forest. “What about you?”

Lea paused, “What about me?”

“Your husband, what happened to ‘im?”

She didn’t answer right away, “I don’t really know.” She planned to leave it at that but found Bronn staring at her with blue eyes that almost hurt her own. “He… left with a few men and a bunch of horses, sailed south to Dorne, we trade stock with them from time to time. Never came back, never heard any word, just…. Didn’t come back.” Her voice was soft but not emotional, it was something she had come to terms with years ago. She stared into the fire, ignoring the fact that Bronn continued to stare at her. For reasons she couldn’t explain she continued, “I lost our son a few months later. A bad fever had spread through the village, there was nothing the Maester could do.” With some effort she swallowed the lump in her throat,

At last Bronn looked away, “I’m sorry.”

“People have survived much worse.” 

The conversation died down after that. After some time Lea checked the horses and returned with a few more large branches for the fire. She laid her sword by her side and laid down with her back to the fire, leaving Bronn to hug his cloak around him and stare into the flames.

~~~~~~~

“I can make the rest of the way on my own you realize.”

“I have no doubt.” Bronn stood over the fire, kicking damp snow over it to snuff it out. “But if I turn around now it’ll be twice as long before I see a warm bed again.”

Lea sat on her horse, waiting, with one leg hooked over the saddle pommel. “I hope you won’t be disappointed but our village isn’t as… comfortable, as you’re used to in Kings Landing.”

He walked towards her, as she was holding his horse, along with the three others they had acquired. “What, tryin’ to say there’s no brothels in Dawnridge?” He stood by her leg looking up at her, “I take offense to that.”

Lea handed him the reins to his horse, “My family isn’t going to pay you either. If that’s what you’re hoping.”

“You really don’t think very highly of me do ya?” Bronn swung himself into the saddle.

“Never said that. Just sayin’ for all you know I’m the stable masters daughter and for your trouble you’ll get a hearty thank you and a cot in the barn.” Lea steered her horse out of the clearing, “Or maybe I’m the Lords daughter and he’ll have one of his men slit your throat…”

Bronn followed her out onto the road, “Guess we’ll find out.”

He rode behind her in silence for some time, occupying himself by wondering what exactly would be waiting for him in Dawnridge. Bronn had heard of it and of the people that lived there, met a few men from there over the years but as he had told Lea back in Riverrun he had never met a woman from there. The thought of them all being like Lea was certainly enough to keep him entertained for a few more miles.

Whistling interrupted his thoughts. He listened to her for a moment and then smiled when he recognized the tune. “And a chain and a keep are nothing, compared to a woman’s kiss. For hands of gold are always cold but a woman’s hands are warm.” She slowed her horse so that the two beasts fell into step together. Bronn and Lea exchanged a look and then a smile before continuing on, whistling and singing as they went.

The sun was high overhead, fighting it’s way through the clouds, when the silence they had fallen into was broken. Lea settled her horse to a stop, her sharp eyes looked to the ground.

“What?”

She looked up, shortening her hold on the reins, “We’re here.”

Bronn scowled, confused. He twisted one way in his saddle and then the other, everywhere around him all he could see was trees and snow covered slopes. Then he heard what must have caught her attention, trees branches rustling, hooves beating through the snow. His hand reached to his sword but was stopped by Leas hand settling on top of it. She was shaking her head.

Six riders broke through the tree line, all mounted on solid black horses with cloaks that matched. The rider in the back of the group was ponying another horse behind him, but rather than a rider this one carried what looked to be the body a large elk. The dead elk looked to be nearly the size of the horse that carried it yet the horse loped along easily under the weight.

“What brings two travelers this far into the…” The first rider called to them as he approached. Slowing his horse to a trot and then a stop. “Lorlea.” His voice was pleasantly surprised, “We had begun to worry.”

Lea smiled and rode her horse forward a stride, “Yes, hunting always calms my nerves as well.” The remark as biting but in a playful way and it caused the six riders to laugh.

“Father will be happy to hear you’re home, he was nearly prepared to send the cavalry south.” Bronn threw a look from the young man in front of him to the woman next to him but neither seemed to notice. “And returned with a friend I see?”

When the mans eyes did land on Bronn it was uncomfortable, they sat all but glaring at each other as the winter wind blew their hair and cloaks around them.

“Liam.” It was a warning. “This is Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. He was kind enough to help me through a few… unpleasant encounters on my way back.”

“Ser Bronn.” Liam looked skeptical, “I’m sorry to say I’ve never heard of you.”

A few of the riders behind Liam chuckled and whispered to each other but Bronn just gave him one of his dry smiles, “Aye, I prefer to keep it that way.”

When the pause became too much Lea smiled kindly, “Carlin, is that beast meant to be cured or can we eat him tonight?”

“We had plans to cure it m’lady but I’m sure a proper feast is in order now.” The boy ponying the dead elk smiled, excited at the prospect.

“Good, I look forward to it after the rabbits we’ve been living on the last few days” When she looked Bronn’s way she purposefully ignored his raised eyebrow. “And I hate to complain but this wind is getting cold. Shall we?”

Liam nodded and kicked his horse back into a lope, the man to his right keeping pace. The others waited, obviously allowing Lea to go ahead of them. She handed the string of horses off to one of the outriders before she too kicked her horse into a steady lope, Bronn only a step behind her and not for long. He rode too close to her, their knees bumping with each stride, “A feast for the return of M’lady Lorlea?” His eyes narrowed and he leaned in closer, “Stable masters daughter my ass.”

“I never said I was, I said I could be and you wouldn’t know the difference.” She kept her eyes forward, wet at the corners and narrowed against the cold wind from the north. “You still aren’t getting paid.”

Yes, the thought had crossed his mind but he had already let it go, “Oh Love, that’s the furthest thing from my mind.”

This time her gaze did spare him a glance and she found his own eyes looking at her oddly.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The village was small, the country more populated with farmers, the keep was daunting however. Dark stone walls, laid long and flat around it, certainly making room for the stables. Ahead of them the young man, Liam, turned to Bronn. “Welcome to Dawnridge.”

They rode through the single street that separated the village, right up to the heavy gates that swung open on what seemed to be their own accord. Bronn’s eyes swept around him, taking in as much as he could and making notes for later, just in case.

“Tell the truth, except for the bit about the Lannisters.” Lea prepared him for what was coming as best she could.

Inside the doors, Bronn found himself surrounded, in fact, by stableyards. Everywhere there was solid black horses, farriers, young men sparring with swords. In the far corner stood a man taller than the horses surrounding him, with a broad chest and tree branches for arms and legs. The mans voice was deep and gravely, “The mighty hunters return!” He walked across the yards to meet them, stopping in his tracks as Lea landed softly on the ground. “You, young lady…” The man paused looking her over, “Must tell us all what kept you, over a hot supper and many glasses of ale.”

“Yes My Lord.” Lea stepped respectfully into the older mans waiting arms. “Father, I would like to introduce you to Ser Bronn, of the Blackwater.” She motioned to Bronn who had just stepped down from his own horse. He turned to face them, a little uneasy. “He proved a good traveling companion on more than one occasion. I would like to offer him a warm bed, bath and meal for the night.”

The Lord stepped forward, towering over Bronn, dark eyes sizing him up. Finally he reached out a hand, “Thank you Ser, for helping to keep my only daughter from the trouble I have no doubt she started all on her own. Lord Darren Mantroe of Dawnridge.” Bronn nodded and shook the Lords hand, head bowed slightly. “That strapping young man there is my oldest Liam, the one beside him Leven, and you’ll meet the youngest two; Lamont and Lyle at dinner. If you’ll join us that is?”

Bronn caught the pointed glance Lea through his way, bowing his head again he agreed, “Thank you M’Lord.” From all sides young squires and stable hands came for the horses and Bronn found himself being herded towards the inner gates. When he looked around for Lea, she was nowhere to be seen.

~~~~~~~

After his hot bath, Bronn felt restless and began to wander, eventually finding himself back in the yards. Off to his right he saw her again, standing among a group of young boys and girls. A young man stood next to her, holding a horse and a long line. The two spoke for a minute and then Lea ushered the children off to the side. Bronn found himself leaning against a wall, curious.

The young man sent the horse out on the line, into a long, arcing circle at an easy lope. Lea brought a young, dark haired boy up close to the edge of the circle the horse was loping. She talked to him for a moment, he nodded and she walked to the center of the circle, standing with the man holding the horse. After a moment she jogged to the horses side, jogging along next to him until she grabbed a handful of mane and with one hop seemed to float up onto the horses back. She landed, sitting sideways with both legs on one side of the horses withers. For a few strides she sat that way until she righted herself, naturally finding a balanced seat even without a saddle.

Bronn crossed his arms, now curious and unable to look away.

Lea reached her arm down and the small boy latched onto it, running along as fast as his legs could carry him before jumping, letting Lea lift him up onto the horse behind her. They spoke between themselves and the dark-haired boy nodded, his ears and cheeks red from the cold. As the horse made another circle Lea reached out again grabbing a training spear from where it was stuck in the ground. With one hand she held the spear at rest and with the other she patted the boy on the knee.

The child took a deep breath then slowly he placed his hands on Lea’s shoulders, working himself up to stand on his feet. At first he wobbled but soon found his balance and when he was ready Lea handed him the spear. On their next lap he held his training spear up in throwing position, waited and then threw it. The weapon sunk into a straw target off to the side and the boy thrust his hands up into the air nearly losing his balance. After his celebration he rode the horse standing up a few more strides before launching himself off, the other children cheering as his landed with a somersault into a pile of loose straw

Lea smiled and clapped, motioning for the next child to come up for their turn.

“That was my youngest, Terren.”

Bronn tilted his head to find Liam standing down the wall from him, “Impressive.”

Liam approached and they watched a little girl as she stuck her spear and leaped from the running horse, nearly landing on her feet but skidding to a stop on her knees. More cheers. “Our children are raised to be tough and fearless.”

“And deadly from the looks of it.” Bronn nodded towards a boy who had stuck his spear into the target mid leap.

Lea’s older brother chuckled, “Yes, that too. Lea is a good teacher.”

“Is it common to have women trained in combat?” Bronn looked Liams way again.

“All of us go through some training, as you can see, but no. Lea is the exception.” He was quiet for a moment, “I wouldn’t suggest going and starting a fight with the kitchen maids mind you. But, Lea is… talented.”

“And the Lords daughter, sure that’s got nothin’ to do with it?”

Liam laughed, “Speaking of, the feast is ready.” He clapped Bronn on the shoulder and went to collect his son.

Bronn stood where he was and continued to watch. The kids scattered, Liam and his son heading towards the keep, Lea slid down from the horse. She gave the horse a pat and said something to the young man that had been holding him. When she turned she saw Bronn and smiled, her cheeks were red and her braid was messy from the wind. She didn’t walk towards him, she simply smiled, winked and walked in the direction that her brother and nephew had gone.

~~~~~~~

“You must be fond of that one.” Bronn thought perhaps he had snuck up on her but she didn’t flinch. She just stood there working her fingers in small circles on the horses neck. Bronn watched as the horses head nodded which each circle, enjoying the touch. The sellsword walked further into the stable.

“He was the first colt born from the mare I was gifted on my name day. He’s the best I’ve ever owned and his sons do his lineage proud.” Her eyes stayed fixed on the horse as her hands worked.

Bronn nodded, leaning back against one of the other stalls, content in the silence for the time being. He just watched her with the horse. A chorus of raucous singing passed by snapping him out of his thoughts. “Quite the welcome home party.”

Lea chuckled, “What? You think all we’re good at is riding horses and killing people?”

He made a face and shrugged, “Proved me wrong.”

“You certainly seemed to be enjoying yourself.” There was a hint of a smile in her voice.

Bronn laughed, “Your old man has some real stories after a few jugs of ale.”

“And I’m sure he was happy to have an audience that hasn’t heard them all a thousand times.”

Silence fell again leading Bronn to let his thoughts wander. She still wore the dress she had worn to the feast. A deep blue, the color of her house though they were hardly seen wearing it. The color showing through the dark black of her fur collared cloak seemed to glow. It also made her eyes appear twice as dark. The narrow, skeptical, calculating eyes that he had recently grown rather found of. “So what is it you’re people look for in a good stallion?”

She let her eyes flick to Bronn, finding him smug, amused with himself and a little inebriated. His company wasn’t yet bothersome and so she humored him. “Well, he has to be strong but lean. Too bulky and he won’t be quick, our best horses can dodge spears and arrows with a single side step. He has to be sure of himself and smarter than he looks. Brave enough to face down a charging bear even as his heart is beating so fast from fear it might explode, swim rivers so deep and fast he can’t reach the bottom, run through trees and fire not knowing what’s on the other side. Some like them to be easy to discipline, easy to train so you give him the word and he does as he’s told. Others look for the ones that fight back, have a mind of their own that isn’t so easily bent to heel.” She stopped for a moment to switch to the other side, the stud’s head jerked up, panicked she was leaving. He steadied again as her hands went to work on the opposite shoulder.

“The best ones crave it. The feeling they get charging a wall of shields and spears. You see them, there’s always a few at the front of a charge the ones that lunge out a head of the rest. Their ears laid flat, nostrils flaring, gaining speed even as they crash through.” She let out a deep, content breath and the horse did the same. “Sometimes, if two riders go to fighting with swords, our horses have been known to kick, paw and even bite the other soldier’s horse.” A dark smile worked its way across her face, “They love it as much as we do.”

Bronn watched her hands, gathering his thoughts and swallowing the lump that had formed deep in his throat. “You ever look at your husband the way you’re lookin’ at that horse?”

Leas eyes were soft but intent, her lips softened, giving the slightest twitch from time to time when the stallion would lean into her hands as she worked a particularly sore muscle. “I never rode into battle with my husband. I never saw his eyes darken at the sight of anothers blood, never saw the muscles in his body tense at the sight of an enemy charging his way, then quiver in anticipation, in excitement. I never saw him stand flat footed in the face of fear because he knew it would give him the upper hand, I never…” She let her words trail off and her hands still.

Bronn feared for what she might say next, that this moment whatever it was would be over.

“I never saw my husband ride into battle at all.” Her eyes stayed locked on the deep brown ones of the horse that stared back at her. “He wasn’t from here, never really understood the value we placed in fighting, in death.” Lea turned to look at him finally, another lump growing deep in the back of his throat. “Do you know why our sigil is a rearing, black stallion?”

He had to fight down the tightness in his throat, his voice was rough when he spoke, “Symbolizes a death in battle, don’t it?”

Lea nodded. “The greatest honor in our house, in our little part of the known world, is to die in battle. Mothers whose sons die in battle never go without a warm house, wives of cavalry men are fed and clothed by my father’s own coin, their children never want, or starve, or freeze.” Her eyes stared at the barn wall behind Bronn, not really seeing anything. “I loved my husband. But, if I were not the Lords daughter I would be disgraced by my own people.”

Bronn had no words. There was a tinge of anger in her voice, and the disgrace she spoke of.

“Winter is here, and there is more than one war coming.” Her eyes snapped to focus, directly on Bronn. “My house will answer Jon Snows call to House Stark. You and I will be on different sides of the battle.” Her eyes bore holes into his, so much so that he couldn’t look away. “If you were to look down your blade and see me there, would you kill me?”

He could see his own breath in front of him, even in the night, and he could see the candle lamps light flickering in the brown of her damp eyes. The weight in the pit of his stomach was unnerving, and the buzz from the ale was no longer there to hide it. Nor could it be blamed for what he said or did next. Without much thought he stepped closer to her, looking down into the eyes that still held him captive. His hand twitched to touch her but he fought it, for as long as he could. Bronn wanted nothing more than to give her the answer she wanted, but he did not know that that was, and so instead he told her the truth. “Yes.”

Those damn eyes of hers just kept staring, until it seemed they couldn’t stare any longer and at last her eyelids slid closed, a heavy breath escaping her, filling the air around them with fog. For a moment Bronn was sick, he had done the wrong thing, said the wrong thing. But, then her fingers wrapped around the collar of his cloak and tugged ever so slightly.

It wasn’t often that Bronn found himself kissing a woman just for the sake of kissing her, but Lea was very different from his usual women. All he could think of now was how tiny and solid she felt pressed against his chest, how thick her dark hair as and how he never realized how badly he’d wanted to tangle his hands in it. She tasted of the ale they had all been drinking and it made him thirsty, Her hands, that he had imagined being so soft and nimble were rough from the wear of leather reins and heavy swords, and they didn’t trace his jaw or comb through his hair like so many of the women’s hands he was used to. They simply dug into his cloak and pulled him tighter against her, pulling until he was walking her backwards.

They knocked into a beam post and he felt guilty for not putting a hand out to block her from hitting it so hard, but she didn’t seem to mind. Instead she bit down into his bottom lip and worked it between her teeth. Bronn couldn’t help the growl that escaped from low in his chest, he found himself clenching his eyes shut even tighter and pushing against her more. She released his lip from her teeth and pulled back leaving him momentarily lost, until he forced his eyes open and found hers were no longer dark and needy but shining again. Her lips curved up on one side with that dangerous smirk she used so much. “Better go get some rest, you’ll want to leave early in the morning.”

Just like that she ducked out from his grasp and headed out into the moonlight. He reached out and grabbed her roughly by the arm, dragging her back. He had no intentions of telling her why, he was simply going to show her. But she stopped him, “Do not be mistaken Ser, I’m not one of those whores you enjoy so much. You can’t make me do anything.” Her eyes dared him.

“You’re a mean woman.” His voice was hoarse and strained.

She took a step closer, a hand on his chest and her lips on his ear. “You like it.”

All he could do was watch her sneak out of the stables while he caught his breath and composed himself. He looked to her horse who stood nodding off in his stall, “That woman is gonna kill me one of these days. One way or another.”


End file.
